The Richmond Haunting: A Narrative Fiction

The Richmond Haunting, began far as I know with something scratching on the window. When Fiona heard the ruckus on the glass, she thought the noise belonged to her imagination, but then it came again: This time louder, more forceful.

Curious, she looked around the room and thought: 'What the hell, 'scratching her head confused with the ruckus clawing on the glass.

She knew what the sound was, but a part of her refused to believe something could be scratching at the window. Scratching like a wild animal trying to escape as the hour had just turned three in the morning.

Startled by the constant racket of finger nails scraping along the pane, Fiona thought someone was playing silly beggars and messing about outside. The idea took a running jump because she lived on the fourteenth floor in a

Turning over to her side, she looked at her partner, and shook him. 'Steven! '

Steven didn 't flinch at his wife 's voice, urging him to wake up, not even when she tried a second time. 'Damn it, wake up. '

Steven did. He waved his arm, in a way someone might do when a wasp gets too near.

He did little else, except mumbled a few words, which made no sense. 'Jesus Christ, you are useless sometimes. ' Fiona thought, looking at her husband as he slumbered without a care in the world.

She didn 't mean what she said, but when something frightened you, good manners took a turn and jumped out the window: Especially, when you could hear something outside making a racket like sandpaper on a dry surface.

With no choice, but to see what it might be, Fiona propped herself up and looked over to the window. At first, she didn 't see anything, but as her eyes adjusted, becoming used to the darkness in the bedroom. She saw what looked like a silhouette shape hovering outside.

Looking at the thing, suspended in the air as though it had invisible strings holding it stable; Fiona cocked her head back in curiosity as she continued to watch the dark shape clawing at the window. 'I 'm